


Festival of Lights

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Hanukkah, Jewish Characters, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Ray's first Hanukkah with the Colberts.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Festival of Lights

**Author's Note:**

> A gift on the last day of Hanukkah for all those who celebrate it.

They arrived back from Camp Pendleton an hour before sundown. They’d left earlier than usual to give them enough time to prepare properly: Brad wasn’t going to repeat the usual rush that'd often happened in his childhood. He set the silver menorah in the living room window with the blinds open, facing out into the street as the light outside began to fade. Ray reappeared – out of uniform, in sweats and one of Brad’s sweaters – with the box that contained everything they needed. He handed it over, along with the crocheted blue kippah his mother had made him years ago. Brad smiled gratefully and slipped it on before kneeling in front of the menorah. As Ray sat cross-legged on the floor beside him, Brad lifted the shamash candle and a box of matches out of the box, lighting one with a flick of his wrist. 

There were two blessing to say when lighting the candles so Brad began reciting the familiar Hebrew words as he held lit match up to the tip of the shamash candle. He’d recited them every year since he could talk and while his knowledge of Hebrew was limited compared to his sister, he knew these words perfectly. The candle cooperated and he lifted the match away to blow it out. He could feel Ray watching him intensely, probably noting everything about the process meticulously: it was his first proper Hanukkah. 

The year before they’d been in Afghanistan and Brad had settled for flicking a lighter the same number of times as there were candles and reciting the blessing under his breath. It had been before _them_ though Ray had known it was Hanukkah and secured him cheese wraps every day for the whole eight days. He smiled thinking back on it, on the surprise and soft something that'd come after he'd realised just what Ray was doing. 

He finished the third blessing – said only on the first day – just as he placed the shamash in the centre holder, slightly raised above the others, and turned to Ray. They hadn’t put any of the other lights on – Ray had said it would create 'an atmosphere' – so only the soft candlelight illuminated Ray's face, smiling at the flicking candle with wonder. Brad felt himself smile in response. 

“Ray?” 

Ray blinked and his eyes moved away from the candle reluctantly, a deep brown in the soft light. “That was Hebrew, right?” He asked. 

Brad nodded, “Yes.” 

Ray hummed, “It sounds cool. Could you teach me some?” 

“Emma will be more than willing to teach you some tomorrow.” Ray nodded absently, looking back at the candle. Brad knew he was nervous: he still wasn’t completely comfortable around Brad’s family though the reason was on Ray’s end not his family’s. There was little Brad could say to change his mind or make relax him, so he settled doing instead, slipping his kippah off and placing it next to the menorah before taking Ray’s hand. His fingers were thin and long but small compared to Brad’s, rough with healed burns from building their Humvee. 

He squeezed it gently, “We should make dinner.” 

Ray nodded and rolled to his feet. Brad laid the table and put out the drinks as Ray fried onions and chips in olive oils, spicing chicken and grilling it. As he cooked, he regaled the prank he and Walt played on Q-tip and Christeson while Brad had been in a team leader’s briefing. When they’d finished eating, Brad blew the candle out and settled in for a night of watching reruns on the couch. 

  


-

The next morning, they met with Brad’s parents and sister outside the Temple. Emma hugged him tightly when he came to stand with them before turning and hugging Ray just as tightly. 

“ _Hanukkah sameach._ ” She said with a bright grin. Ray repeated it back to her and then they were off talking about some TV show or another. It'd been surprising when his sister took to Ray quicker than most people did. At first, he’d thought it was because Ray'd been holding back when he’d met her at Brad’s birthday party but the more he’d thought about it, the more it made sense that they got along. 

“Brad.” Brad turned to his mother and accepted the hug and kiss on the cheek. Ray smirked at him over Emma’s shoulder, but he knew Ray didn’t have a leg to stand on. Ray’s mother called him sunshine and kissed him on the forehead. “Now, Ray,” his mother said, gesturing him forward, “I have something for you.” 

“Oh?” Ray said, his eyes darting to Brad as he stepped forward obediently. Brad shook his head back: his mother never included him in her scheming. She pulled out a small, wrapped package and held it out to Ray. 

“Consider this your first Hanukkah gift.” She said with a pleasant smile. Ray’s eyes darted between his mother and Brad as he took the package, biting at his lip. He ripped it open more hesitantly and carefully than he usually would and took out a circular piece of coloured fabric. He flipped in his hand and Brad relieved it was a crocheted kippah like the one Brad was wearing, in deep reds instead of medium blues. Ray’s mouth dropped open and Brad thought he could see his eyes glistening. 

“You know it’s customary to say thank you after receiving a gift.” 

His mother gave him a look, but Ray grinned and relaxed, telling him to shut up as he slipped the kippah on. Brad fixed its position as they headed towards the Temple doors. They sat in the middle – a compromise between Brad’s want to sit at the back and his mother and sister’s want to sit at the front – his mother at the end, then his father, him, Ray and Emma. His father and Ray shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, his father complimenting Ray’s kippah. Brad bit his lip to contain a chuckle as Ray dunked his head and thanked him. 

It wasn’t the first time Ray had been in the Temple: Brad had brought him along at midnight for Yom Kippur. Still, he looked around with awe and bounced a little in his seat. 

There was always something comforting about being back even if he didn’t come as often as he’d done in his childhood. It filled his chest with something warm to watch Ray follow along, picking up on words and timings and following along with as much energy as he put into learning radio protocols. He saw Emma grin and lean across, probably explaining everything in more detail. She always was the more studious than him. 

Afterwards, they drove back his parent’s house. Ray slipped his kippah off in the car, rubbing his fingers against the wool thoughtfully. Brad turned the radio on, leaving it on the country station. 

“Softy.” Ray muttered with a small grin, still rubbing the wool between his fingers. 

When they arrived, Emma was reading in one of the armchairs, his parents off in another room. Brad rose an eyebrow when Ray pulled out the same book from his backpack and flopped down on the couch by her. He hadn’t thought Ray would be a bookworm, but the multiple shelves and random stacks around their apartment were the proof. He settled on the other end of the couch, letting Ray stretch out and put his feet in his lap. He was wearing matching sock for once, without any holes too. His mother joined them after a while and Brad spent his time answering her questions and discuss the plan for rest of the week. 

The time came to light the menorah quicker than Brad expected since it was later than other days because it was Shabbat until eight and they couldn’t light the candles before then. His mother switched off the lights as his father fetched the matches and he and Emma went to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the menorah, waving Ray over to sit with them. It was their tradition ever since Emma was born. At first, he’d held her while their parents lit the candles, then as she grew, she sat in his lap until they’d been old enough to light the candle themselves. They'd have to update their traditions since neither of them had ever brought a partner along before. 

Ray passed him his kippah and slipped his own on with a small smile. Brad adjusted it so that it sat correctly before putting his own on and smiling back. He could feel his sister grinning on his other side, but he ignored her as his father passed him the matches. He was the oldest, therefore he got to light the shamash. With a flick, match caught alit and he pressed it to the wick of his parent’s shamash. All their regular candles were white but their shamash was blue. As he lit the candle, his father said the first blessing and when Emma lit the second candle in the right most holder on the menorah, his mother said the second. They also recited the final paragraph as well, perfectly in time. He looked across to Ray when it was done and the look from the first night was there, soft awe and a small smile, his brown eyes warm in the candlelight . 

His father fetched the latkes and yogurts, along with other snacks as they set up to play the dreidel. They each placed on cent a mug when he returned and then it began. The youngest always started in their household – to make up for the fact that he lit the candles first – so Emma started and then Ray, him, his father and his mother. 

“Yes!” Emma cheered as the dreidel landed _gimel_ side up. 

“I can see the competitiveness runs in the family.” Ray said dryly as she tipped all the cents out of the mug. Brad snorted and took a sip of his coffee. 

Currently, he and his sister were drawing now that she’d got everything in the pot. His father was losing, with only two cent left and Ray was somewhere in the middle. His mother was already out of cents and was instead watching from the side-lines with a book. They each refilled the mug with a cent and then the dreidel was passed to Ray. They watched the dreidel bobble around the coffee table before landing on _nun_. The dreidel was passed to him and again it landed on _nun_. 

On his father's go, it landed on _shin_. He sighed as the rest of them chanted _shin, shin put one in_ and he was left with no cents. 

“I think this is a sign that I should get dessert.” He said with a chuckle, standing up off the carpet and leaving the living room. 

“I’m going to win.” Emma said across the coffee table as she took the dreidel. Brad rolled his eyes and grinned when she landed on _nun_. In the following rounds, Ray managed to chip away at both Brad’s and Emma’s cashes of cents. They were in a three-way draw by the time his father brought out the sufganiyot and made a round of coffees and a glass of water for Emma. He reached across to wipe the jam off Ray’s cheek, laughing when Ray batted his hand away. 

“How is your mother Ray, it was her birthday two weeks ago, wasn’t it?” His mother asked, sipping her coffee. 

“Good. She had a great birthday, her and a couple of her friends went backpacking up through the Mark Twain National Forest.” 

“Oh, that’s good. Will she be visiting for Christmas?” 

Ray shook his head as Brad took his turn, “No. With everything going on with Iraq, we agreed it would be stupid for her to waste money if I end up being deployed.” Ray paused and backtracked, “Not that I think that’ll happen, but politicians are always talking and it’s a lot of money at this time of year.” 

His mother nodded. Brad sighed internally: she’d been saying the same thing for the last month and now Ray had backed her up. He didn’t get annoyed though because that was probably the most relaxed Ray had been with his mother. Brad supposed he understood, he’d only met Ray’s mother once and he’d been nervous, more so than when he deep sea dived. 

Emma cheered again and within three rounds, she cleared them both out. Brad let her win this year, even though he was sure the dreidel was weighted. 

His mother convinced them to stay for the night which meant he and Ray ended up in the single bed in what had been his bedroom before he’d moved out. It was a tight fit, Ray squeezed under his arm, half draped over his chest, but it was nice in a way, to be curled so close together. 

  


-

The next night they were back in their apartment. Brad had spent the afternoon filling out paperwork along with several requisite forms. If one more marine lost a piece of equipment, he was going to have to speak to the LT about an intervention. Ray'd started by playing video games but now he was curled up with a book on the couch. 

When the light outside started to dim, Brad put his paperwork away and set about lighting the menorah. This time he got Ray to light the last candle which he did very carefully, a tongue pressing against his bottom lip as the flame jumped from the shamash candle to the final candle in the furthest right holder. 

“See, it isn’t that scary Ray.” 

“Shut up Brad.” 

-

Things went smoothly until Thursday when a meeting that should've finished at half five ended at half six because apparently some of the newer marines had been fucking around enough for the brass to notice and comment to their Captain, who’d taken at least fifteen minutes to relay this information when anyone else would've taken five. Along with this, he’d insisted they form a strategy then and there while also rejecting almost every logical plan set forward by Mike and the LT. As he watched the time tick down and the light outside the window disappear, he found himself tapping a finger against his thigh. He’d been late before but that had been planned. This delay hadn’t been. 

When the meeting finally ended, it was completely dark outside. He caught a lift with Poke because he’d insisted Ray went home instead of waiting for him: he didn’t want Ray getting bored where he could do actual damage. Poke ranted about the Captain and threw in anecdotes from his time in the regular marines, which was insulting enough. They pulled up outside his house and he went to get out when he noticed the glowing lights in the window. He counted them subconsciously – seven, the last two place on the left most side open. 

“Shit dawg, I forgot you celebrated that.” 

Brad forced out a heavy sigh, even as his mind spun, “Several years of friendship and you own crusade to champion the rights of minorities and yet you systematically forget our traditions. Some would say that makes you a hypocrite. A poser as our less astute marines would say.” 

Poke shook his head, “Fine, I’ll get you a present or some shit if your feelings are that hurt.” 

“Save your money and spent it on a book to educate yourself on Judaism. I hear the Torah is very helpful.” 

He closed the door and Poke barked out a laugh. The car pull away as he unlocked the front door and stepped through. The only light inside the house was from the menorah and a couple of other candles on the coffee table in front of where Ray was curled up on the couch, his nose buried in a book. Brad set his bag down and wondered over to the candles that were flickering in the window. 

“I didn’t know how to say the blessings, but I thought I could light them for you, so that they were on time.” Ray’s voice stopped and started, sounding hesitant and weaker than normal. Brad turned to him, taking in the stiff fingers holding the book, the eyes looking at him warily. He walked over and sat beside him, stretching out his legs. 

“Thank you.” He said. It wasn’t what Ray must have been expecting since his eyes widened. It was true that most of the time if someone was late, they would wait to light the candles, but Brad appreciated the forethought. He leaned across and kissed Ray’s forehead, dropping his voice to say. 

“I’ll teach you tomorrow.” 

-

They finished on time the next night. Brad started setting up earlier because if he was going to teach Ray the blessing in Hebrew, it was going to be done to the same standards as his mother would do. He set up the candles – seven as well as the shamash since it was the last day tomorrow – and waited for Ray to settle next to him, his kippah in place. Brad chuckled and pulled it across just a little. 

“I swear you move it to a different place every time.” Ray grumbled before turning to him expectantly. Brad smiled and began teaching him the first blessing, adding one words at a time and making Ray recite it back to him every time. 

“Wait, is it _A-don-i_ or _A-do-ni_?” 

“ _A-don-i._ ” Brad repeated patiently. Ray stumbled a little on some of the longer words and his accent could use a lot of work but for his first time, he did quite well. 

“I’ll get Emma to teach you to sing it next year, that might help you remember.” 

“Wait, you can sing it!” Ray exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. 

“No.” Brad said pointedly. He’d stopped trying to sing it after he left home, he did much better reciting it than trying to match his sister melodic voice. “If you want to sing it, you go to Emma.” 

Ray sighed, “Fine, but I will hear it one day.” Brad rolled his eyes, but he knew if Ray got Emma on board that was going to happen soon rather than later. 

They got through the second blessing slightly easier since the beginning was the same. Ray picking it up quicker and butchering the pronunciation slightly less and then Brad decided they could try it together. He lit the match and they slowly worked their way through the first blessing, their voices overlaying even as Ray mumbled his way through a section. Brad smiled encouragingly as the first two candles took the flame. Ray was a little more confident during the second, saying the first phrase almost perfectly. Brad was grinning when the last candle took the flame, leaving eight candles flickering in the darkness and out onto the street. 

Ray’s smile was worth the effort, bright and warm, satisfaction in his eyes as he looked over at Brad. Brad swallowed as his chest tightened and he leaned across to kiss Ray softly. He pulled back to press his forehead against Ray’s, his face was still full of joy. 

“Thank you.” Brad said before he could hesitate. _Thank you for caring, for trying so hard, for respecting this part of my life._

“Of course.” Ray said just as quickly, naturally, like he wasn’t giving Brad something precious. 

Brad kissed him one more time because he could. 

  


-

The last night was on Saturday. They didn’t join his family at Temple again since an exercise had been planned for the morning. They’d been in the mountains around Camp Pendleton since before the sun had rose, planning and executing both an assault on a position and a defence, the full-strength platoon split in two. It had been fun, well executed and planned, and at the end the LT had pleased, grinning as he debrief the team leaders and sent them on their way. 

They got back in the middle of the afternoon and spent the time up to the final lighting on their phone to their parents, sharing looks and grins across the living room. His mother was delighted to hear that Ray was interested in learning Hebrew. He carefully moved her away from the idea of sending him to a class if only because he wanted teach Ray himself, share this with him. He did cave to promise that he would turn to Emma if he was struggling. 

They set up the menorah after eight, Brad lighting the shamash and the two of them working their way through the blessing, slightly smoother. He got Ray to light every other candle, which he did with more care than it needed, but Brad kept that too himself. It was amusing to watch Ray do something so slow, so tentatively since he usually barrelled his way through most things. All nine candles danced in the darkness as Brad found Ray’s hand, squeezing the thin, calloused digits. There was something about sharing Hanukkah like this, with someone other than his family, someone that meant as much to him as Ray. 

“So, when’s the next holiday?” Ray asked quietly, a grin on his lips and inquisitive glint in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to make this accurate but once again, if there are any mistakes, please correct me: I'd rather learn than carry on being wrong.


End file.
